As I sat in the church pew on Christmas morning, I noticed a young woman sitting alone in front of me to my left. I didn’t recognize her and she seemed a bit uncomfortable, maybe even nervous. She followed along with the mass, perhaps at one point in her life being familiar with it. She quietly sang along to the music, yet there was a sadness about her – a loneliness. To her right, sat a young woman and man in their early to mid-30s. I recognized the older woman they were sitting with as I knew she was a regular parishioner. I assumed it was her son and daughter or son and girlfriend. I couldn’t tell. They seemed disconnected, even bored. They went through the motions, but it was obvious they were there out of obligation. Probably in town for the holidays and fulfilling their obligatory “duty” to their mom.

As I observed both the young woman and the “couple” in front of me, I remembered having both those feelings of loneliness and disconnect. Only two years before I had sat in that same church feeling alone, empty and desperate. At the time, I had everything to live for – husband, children, family, friends – yet, inside I was like an empty vessel. I was searching and grasping for everything around me that I thought could fill the emptiness and silence the desperation I felt. I wanted so badly to feel on the inside the way people perceived me from the outside, but in reality I was sinking quietly into the loneliness and emptiness.

It wasn’t until two months later I would realize that what I had been searching for all along was right in front of me. My husband who would stand by me and hold me up when I couldn’t hold myself up, my children who would love me unconditionally and my church that would allow me to explore and question the God I had always been so scared of.

Now, almost two years later, as I sat in that church pew next to my daughter holding her new “Frozen” dolls and my husband holding our sleeping son, I felt the serenity, peace and joy that we often refer to as “The Promises” in recovery. I no longer felt alone, empty or disconnected from my life. I was filled with love, gratitude and gratefulness for a God who could make a broken person like myself whole again.

On New Year’s Eve, my husband and I will celebrate nine years of marriage – a marriage which could have easily ended two years ago. In all my years of searching for happiness and contentment elsewhere, I was fortunate enough to find a man who would lay down his life for me, forgive me, love me when I was unlovable and walk with me through the pain, grief, anger and healing that it took to get to where we are now. I know he is a true gift from God. But, like all valuable gifts, I must treasure, protect and respect him and his love for me.

And that’s when I was searching, I’m not searching anymore
And that’s when I was learning about the things worth living for
Before I was open, before I knew I couldn’t live a day
Without you
Without you

Without you in the morning, to love me another day
Without you in the evening, when the colors start to fade
Without you on the plane ride to hold my hand and pray
Without you standing here when you could’ve walked away

Now I’m not searching, I’m not searching anymore
But I’m, I’m still learning ’bout the things worth living for
I am here, I am open, and now I know I couldn’t live a day
Without you
Without you

So beautiful, Chenoa. I am so glad that you’re in this place – and glad to see you posting too (miss seeing you around 🙂 )

That feeling of disconnection is something that I certainly can relate to. Feeling separate from others and God was the hallmark of my existence. And I think that is how most of us were. I once heard that alcoholics / addicts are people who are running away from God as quickly as possible. And I see the truth in that now. I too was a shell of a person walking around, just pretending to be of this world. But it was as soon as I made my connection with God where I was able to start living again. And that relationship begat my relationship with others. And it continues today.

I am so glad to see you so connected and aware and a part of, not apart from.

Thanks for sharing this post. I think the part of being lonely in a crowd is so typical for addicts. The searching, the disconnect, the inability to process the happiness. What joy you have the ability to reflect on her shell and see how your growth has come to you. Your life is a reflection of the hard work you’ve put in. God love ya, your hubby, your family and your other support systems.

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Mom, wife, writer, aspiring DIYer and seeker of simplicity. I write about faith, food, family, sobriety and life on our small Oregon farm. My writing comes from my heart, transparent and honest, just as I aim to live my life today. In sharing my story, I hope you find inspiration to live your most authentic and joyful life. Thanks for stopping by!